


Wait For It

by Croik



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Cult Ending (Dream Daddy), Darkfic, Dubious Consent, M/M, Oviposition, Tentacles, ToT: Monster Mash, Trick or Treat: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-20 19:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12439695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik
Summary: After a group party on the yacht, Robert stays behind to help Joseph clean up.  Throw out some trash, finish the beer.  No big deal.  Right?





	Wait For It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delina/gifts).



"So there we are in the deer blind, in complete and utter darkness except for my lighter and a flashing hedgehog keychain. Not one goddamn star. Kenny's jeans are frozen to his legs from the piss, and Horatio just keeps muttering 'not like this, not like this,' but in Spanish, right? So it's up to me and the twelve gauge, one shell left, and half a pack of timber wolves. That's when I remember the peanut butter. I lobbed that sucker out into the woods, and they took right off after it. They're just dogs, after all. And I guess they accepted the tribute because they left us alone the rest of the night. And _that's_ why I'm never going back to Wisconsin."

It wasn't particularly funny, but Joseph was a good sport and laughed anyway. He was too used to Robert's shtick to offer even a faked belief in the story. Still, at least the crinkle of humor in his eyes was better than a groan. For a moment he even looked human.

Robert finished combining the trash bags into one and then tied it off, leaning it against the rail for when they were ready to disembark. Joseph was still folding table clothes and didn't seem to be in any hurry, so Robert took his rightful place next to the garbage, smoking down his cigarette.

Fuck, it was a nice night. The wind had finally died down, settling into a gentle stir, and the sky was slashed with vibrant pinks and high-flung clouds. Robert watched distant waves lap at the horizon and tried not to indulge curiosity and dread alike for the seemingly endless expanse of deep ocean beneath. Soon it would be night, and there'd be only black sky and black water, and no moon to help you tell the difference.

Joseph finished with his fussing, and he straightened up. Robert was momentarily struck by shape of him against the waning light: his broad shoulders, his square jaw, his perfectly wind-swept waves of hair. He looked like a goddamn statue, and like most nights, Robert kind of hated him for it. But there was also something off in the weary slope of his posture. His eyes were locked on the horizon with a heaviness like longing.

Robert watched until he felt a similar weight clawing up his back—he shook it off. "Hey, Joe. We finished?"

Joseph glanced over, and as if remembering Robert was even still there he smiled, banishing whatever melancholic atmosphere had briefly surrounded him. "Yeah. Thanks for your help, Robert." He gave a salute. "Permission to disembark granted."

Robert snorted and made no move to do so. "What about you? Don't tell me you plan on doing a load of laundry before you go."

"I thought you would have insisted," Joseph replied as he came closer. "I'm already holding your shirt hostage down in the brig."

Robert plucked idly at his borrowed sweater. Color aside, it was more comfortable than it had any right being, and he wasn't terribly keen on giving it up. "Throw it overboard," he said. "Let the fish suck all the cocktail sauce off it."

"It was an accident," Joseph said, not for the first time, even though Robert hadn't blamed him for anything in the first place. "I was juggling a lot tonight."

"Yeah you were." He hadn't meant for _that_ to come out as accusatory as it did, but Joseph didn't seem to catch on anyway. Still smiling like everything was easy and fine. It made Robert itch. "I honestly don't know how you do it."

"Oh, it's not so bad." Joseph leaned back against the railing with him. "It was a good party, wasn't it? Feels like it's been a long time since we had everyone together like this."

It should have been so easy to agree and then small talk himself straight off the boat, back to his living room sofa and one more drink. Instead, Robert said, "Yeah, I just wish you could have enjoyed it more."

Finally, he really got Joseph's attention, and was met with a face of poorly concealed shame. As vindicated as he thought he should have felt, it hurt to look at. What a dick he was. Now that he'd said it, and Joseph actually looked ready to acknowledge, he had no idea how to follow up.

"That obvious, huh?" said Joseph with a bitter half smile that had Robert convinced neither of them were prepared for this conversation.

"You put up a good front," Robert offered, even if he knew it wouldn't be reassuring. "I'm sure most of them didn't notice. But I know for a fact you didn't say three words to your wife all night."

Joseph was still smiling. It made Robert want to push him overboard. "We've, you know. Been going through some things."

"You'll be going through a divorce if you keep it up," said Robert, and then immediately regretted it, even more so when Joseph nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's…." Joseph took in a deep breath, and Robert felt as if he were stealing the breath from his lungs. "It's starting to look like that, actually."

"Christ. I mean…." Robert took a breath off his cigarette and considered pushing himself overboard. He felt like shit. "I'm sorry."

Joseph nodded again, and for a moment he made that face again—that distant, heavy look of wanting something you couldn't have. Then he plucked the cigarette out of Robert's fingers, and to his shock took a long drag. "Don't be," he said, and he tossed what remained of the butt overboard. "It's probably better for everyone."

It didn't make Robert feel any less sorry, or any less like shit. The pressure of the railing against his back might as well have been a loaded gun. A decent person would have something better to say in a situation like this, he thought. Even a half decent one, not that he considered himself up to that respectable fifty percent, either. He licked his lips and asked, "Do you want to talk about it? I know I'm not—"

"I'm okay," Joseph said quickly, and he pushed away from the rail, motioning for Robert to do the same. "Come on, let's go rescue your shirt. It should be dry by now."

Robert followed only because he wasn't quick enough to think of an excuse not to. His skin crawled as they descended into the cabin. Even if Joseph had already rejected his clumsy attempt at sympathy it felt too damn weird not to say anything, weirder still to change the subject. All Robert ever had to offer was bad advice and elaborate jokes. He couldn't imagine either being welcome.

He took shelter in small talk. "Laundry room on a boat," he said as Joseph led the way through the cabin. "My first house barely had that much."

"It comes in handy." Joseph didn't bother to turn on any lights as they went, making the rapidly fading sunset through portholes their only guide. He didn't seem to need it, but Robert kept one hand to the wall. "Once you're at the point that you're buying a yacht, things like that don't make _that_ much of a difference."

"Wow, you're insufferable."

Joseph laughed, and he sounded so like himself that for a slim moment Robert was fooled into think he might have been okay after all. But of course he wasn't—he and his wife were getting a divorce. Just as Robert was preparing himself to broach the subject again, they reached the laundry room. There were no windows and it was nearly pitch black.

"Ah, good as new," said Joseph as he pulled Robert's shirt out of the dryer.

"Thanks." Robert felt around for a light switch, but Joseph gave his arm a tug before he could find anything, startling him.

"I'm going to need my sweater back," said Joseph.

"Huh? Oh." Robert hesitated; there wasn't much space in the laundry room to maneuver, and he wasn't sure he could change well without Joseph getting an elbow in his face. Before he could even contemplate stepping outside—and how equally awkward that would be—Joseph took hold of the bottom of the sweater. Warm knuckles skated up his ribs as the garment was peeled off of him, just slowly enough for it to be deliberate stalling. Robert shivered and didn't know what to make of it. Once the sweater was off he realized just how close Joseph was, crowding his personal space.

Warning bells pounded against his ears. "Joseph?"

"Here." Joseph pushed the shirt against Robert's chest. "It's still warm."

"Uh…yeah." Robert was too damn old to blush, but his ears sure felt hot as he started to put the shirt on. "Thanks."

He got his arms in the sleeves, but before he could get further than that, Joseph stepped forward. They bumped into each other and Robert retreated, startling when his back hit the wall. His heart bounced into his throat and suddenly he was trapped.

"Sorry," said Joseph, his voice lower and rougher than Robert had ever heard it, like a bass string vibrating between them. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Robert kept very still. He felt as if he were being held captive in a Wisconsin deer blind, without even any peanut butter. He'd always been keenly aware of Joseph's broad physique but it was a damn different story with every toned inch of it barring his escape. "Joe, what are you doing?"

Joseph laughed, quiet and charming, tangling Robert's instincts. "I don't know," he confessed, but then his wide palms settled on Robert's waist, sneaking beneath his only half-worn shirt, and _they_ sure as hell seemed to know the plan. "Taking advantage of you, I guess."

He kissed Robert full on the mouth. His lips were heavy, eager, and he tasted like beer even though Robert didn't remember seeing him drink that night. God he was good at it, and despite his roiling stomach Robert wilted a little, completely off his guard, his brains somewhere out in space. It had been a long damn time since someone had kissed him like that.

"Wait—" Robert turned his head and pushed at Joseph's shoulders, but the room was fully dark and he couldn't seem to get his bearings. "Joseph—you don't want to do this."

"I do," Joseph replied quickly, and his firm hands groping up the slope of Robert's back had him seeing stars. "I'm sorry, but I really do." His blunt fingers dug into Robert's skin as he slotted their bodies more firmly together. "God in Heaven, you don't know how good you feel right now."

"But—" Robert's attempt at reason was smothered by another intense kiss, and he didn't fight as hard as he should have. Joseph's rough hands _did_ feel good as they massaged up and down the length of his torso—his mouth _was_ Heaven, hungry and sweet and needy. He felt as if he were getting drunk all over again off the booze on Joseph's tongue, as ridiculous of a notion as that was. When Joseph moaned oh so quietly between their clashing lips Robert couldn't help but answer, shame spiraling into his lungs.

It wasn't as if he'd never imagined this, after all. It wasn't as if he'd never wondered what it would be like to see the golden boy crack, or even better, to be the one swinging the hammer. He was just enough of a piece of shit for that, or so he always told himself. An asshole like him should have no problem fucking a married guy whose life was on the verge of collapsing. So why were his hands shaking?

"But Mary," Robert tried again, hoping that if he said the name it would wake _him_ out of this nonsense, too. "Your kids—"

"Please, Robert," Joseph whispered, his breath flaring against Robert's ear and giving him goose bumps. "Just this once—just for tonight." He drew one hand forward, palm gliding down Robert's bare stomach. "It's been so long, and I…I need this."

He turned his wrist and reached lower, palming Robert's groin through his jeans. When he squeezed, Robert hissed, his cock swelling to meet it. _So long is right_ , he thought, grabbing Joseph's wrist. He meant to try to stop him, but another clench of perfect fingers made him hesitate. He needed a moment to think—he needed air. But between the slow massage of Joseph's clever hand and the wet, suckling kisses pressed to his neck, he couldn't think straight and had no defense.

Joseph let go and reached around Robert's body with both hands, lifting him right off his feet. Instinctually Robert grabbed his shoulders as he was carried out of the room. "Joseph, wait," he tried to reason one more time. He had to lean forward to keep from smacking his head as they passed through the low hall and into the next room. "What is going on?"

The main cabin had windows open to the deck, but there was only a faint orange glow filtering through them, turning everything hazy. Robert barely had time to glimpse the layout before he was heaved onto the bed. When he lifted his eyes Joseph was stripping out of his shirt, and the flex of muscle in the waning light made his heart skip.

"Joseph…." Robert sat up, but as Joseph climbed onto the bed he leaned back again, caught between instincts of fuck or flight and prickling all over. "I really think…you're going to regret this later."

Joseph laughed, his usual charm tinged with bitterness that Robert never would have expected from him. "You think I don't have regrets already?" he replied, pushing confidently between Robert's thighs. "Or are you talking about yourself?"

He leaned down, and Robert retreated, but it felt a lot like submitting. He pushed against Joseph's chest but his knees fell open in welcome. When Joseph kissed him again, smothering, he didn't fight back. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. "It's just…" he panted once he had his mouth back. "You just don't seem like yourself right now."

"That's funny," Joseph said huskily, and he kissed and sucked at Robert's neck. "Because I _feel_ more like myself now...than I have in a long time. But if you want to stop...say so."

He stole another kiss before Robert could answer, rubbing their bodies together. His fingers twisting in Robert's hair and kneading his ass were so startlingly aggressive that Robert couldn't help but encourage them with eager squirms. It was just for the night, after all. Robert raked his nails down Joseph's perfect skin, and the hiss that emptied against his lips left him shivering. The last bit of daylight was slipping under the waves. No one would know.

Robert reached down between them to start undoing Joseph's belt. It was all the answer Joseph needed, and when he kissed Robert again it was with even greater passion than before, until they were both breathless and almost dizzy. With fumbling hands they helped each other out of their pants, then the shirt Robert had only been half wearing. When Joseph pushed Robert's back flat to the mattress he took a moment to catch his breath, but then Joseph was moving down his body, dragging down his briefs. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask then, like how the hell did a Ken Doll like Joseph Christiansen think he knew the first thing about sucking cock, but then Joseph swallowed him down whole and all questions scattered.

" _Ffuuuck_ ," Robert moaned, head tipped back, eyes closed as he let Joseph's perfect mouth erase all sense. "Jesus Christ, Joseph…."

Joseph pulled back, lips smacking around Robert's head as if to answer him. Then he dove back in, sucking Robert's hard inches down his throat. It was _heaven_ , and Robert was happy to fist the bedsheets and selfishly partake. He spread his legs and groaned encouragement when Joseph prodded at his asshole with slick fingers. When he'd had the time to lube up, Robert didn't know or particularly care—he was sweating and eager to get on with it before his shame could catch up to him. Then Joseph was inside him—was it two fingers or three?—massaging back and forth, stretching him open. He clenched his jaws against the sting.

"Shhh," Joseph soothed, rubbing his stomach with his free hand. "I'll go slow."

"Don't go slow," Robert retorted. He bucked his hips as emphasis and felt Joseph's throat constrict around his cock. It felt so good that it took him too long to realize that he could hear Joseph chuckling in response. Talking and laughing with a dick in his mouth, that was a talent he'd never expected from a youth minister.

Then he felt Joseph's hands— _both_ his hands—gripping his waist, holding him still as the fingers continued to shallowly fuck him. Joseph was sucking him off like a pro and murmuring something to himself with amusement.

"What the fuck…?" Robert finally opened his eyes and looked down, but the room was in full night by then, not a star to lend shape to the shadows. All he could make out was the broad span of Joseph's shoulders, and for just a moment, a glimpse of his flashing eyes. "Joseph, how are you—"

Joseph crawled up his body and kissed him, which was even stranger when it sure felt like _something_ was still sucking his dick. Just as he was starting to feel real concern, however, Joseph hushed him again and pushed his knees up. "Trust me," he whispered, and he thrust into him.

It didn't feel like any cock Robert had ever taken—slick and girthy, but tapered, sliding deep into his ass as if it had a mind of its own. When Joseph moved it even seemed to swell, pressing insistently just where it was needed most. Robert shuddered with each firm pump of Joseph's strong hips, overwhelmed by the seething euphoria of being filled. It really had been too long, he thought—had he forgotten how good it could be? He gripped Joseph's shoulders for what stability he could find and just held on as he was rocked deliciously into the mattress.

"I had a feeling you would be the first," said Joseph, but the tone of his voice was strange, as if scrambling into noise just after hitting Robert's ears. "That you would _need_ this the most."

He sat up, and even though Robert could only make out the barest of shapes of him already, his outlines seemed to blur into the shadows around them—except for his eyes, half closed but eerily clear. His unblinking gaze was hypnotizing, and Robert couldn't bring himself to ask what the hell he was talking about. It was as if his brain had filled with fog. Joseph was still fucking him, but slowly, sensually, and maybe he really _did_ need it. He needed that strange, muscley cock stretching deeper and deeper into his hungry body, needed the slither of unseen limbs groping over his thighs, hips, waist. Something wrapped around his throat that he couldn't identify, and it set his heart pounding, but he couldn't bring himself to fight back. Everything was fuzzy and throbbing, melty and rapturous. And when another wet something brushed his lips, he relented through instinct, allowing it into his mouth to be sucked.

"That's it," Joseph encouraged, massaging Robert's chest and stomach. Robert arched his back mindlessly into him. "Just relax, Robert, take it in. It's going to feel so good, I promise. I can't wait for you to feel it."

Robert whimpered; he had no idea what Joseph meant but for some mad reason he believed it, and he was anxious to have the mysterious pleasure he was being promised. Already he was shaking, cock leaking into the fleshy suction that hadn't abated once since Joseph started. Between the grip around his throat and the appendage _he_ couldn't stop sucking he could barely breathe, and his excitement was approaching a sensation like panic. And then he felt the tube between his lips widen, as if something were being squeezed through it. A gooey sphere the size of a large cherry rolled down the back of his tongue, and the ligature around his neck loosened just long enough for it to pass, then stroked downward, forcing Robert to swallow it.

Robert's wits were far past gone, but when the tentacle retracted he still managed to take a breath and ask, "What was that…?" The unknown treat had left a sweet, sharp taste in his mouth, and he could somehow taste it as it traveled down his throat, into his stomach as a heavy, glowing weight just below his sternum. It filled him with urgency and an even greater hunger, crying out to be satiated. "Joseph?"

"Here it comes," Joseph said, voice rough and arousing as his thrusts began to speed up again. "Oh Robert…I knew you would be…!"

Robert felt the stretch again, this time at his asshole: Joseph's impossibly long cock swelled, pushing into him another pulsing mass. It was large enough that Robert groaned with the burn of his muscles being stressed. Once inside him there was only pleasure as it squirmed up against his prostate, as if it were pure energy lighting up his nerves. " _Oh fuck_ ," Robert moaned as he felt it jostling inside him as Joseph continued to fuck him senseless. "Oh fuck…holy….fuck…."

"You're beautiful," Joseph breathed, and he pressed his palms into Robert's abdomen. "Let it come, Robert. You're doing so well."

He pushed, and Robert could feel the strange, egg-like thing inside him squish and wriggle its way up into his bowels. Robert gasped and writhed, but when he tried to reach for Joseph's hands, slimy tentacles took hold of his wrists, pinning them down. "Let it come," Joseph said again, kneading his palms up Robert's stomach as if to urge the orb up through him. "Let it come."

"Wait—" Robert's struggles were weak and pointless as the heat sped through him, faster than should have been possible through the lengths of his organs. It was like a comet trailing starlight in its wake and it was moving closer and closer to the weight already in his stomach. Like two magnets they attracted each other with a charge like lightning. "Stop," he gasped out, even as his body drew tight with anticipation, desperate for the convergence. His lungs heaved and his toes curled. "Oh god, wait—wait—"

The two orbs met, and meteors collided. Ecstasy like volcanic magma gushed out from their joining, drowning out all of Robert's outward senses. He cried and quaked and might have even begged. His actual orgasm sucked down by Joseph's second mouth didn't compare to the electricity coursing through him in fiery brilliance. Every cell in his body danced and his mind went white, like a screen on which strange images of different worlds were projected: deep oceans of endless black, enormous moons of vibrant colors, impossible creatures squirming in and around each other in endless love-making. And he was a part of it all, connected, a thing of beauty growing in his belly. He was loved and he was whole.

"See?" Joseph's voice was very close but Robert couldn't feel any human part of him—just smooth, slick limbs gliding and coiling all over him. He rubbed Robert's stomach, and Robert surrendered a throaty moan of pleasure as the Light in him celebrated. "Didn't I say how good it would be? Just you wait." He stroked Robert all over as his consciousness faded, the last sensation to go dim something biting strange shapes into the crook of his thumb. "Soon, Robert. Soon."

When Robert awoke, he was freezing, and he was alone.

Daylight was streaming through the cabin windows. Robert was in the bed, covered in goose bumps and nothing else. He sat up slowly but his head still spun, and he took stock: sweat in the sheets, dried jizz on his stomach, sore ass and fuzzy memory. A distant sensation of horror clung to his nerve endings but he couldn't quite grasp it, couldn't piece together why his neck was tender and he felt so…full.

"Oh, you're up."

Robert startled; Joseph was coming into the room. He had Roberts clothes with him, washed and folded over one arm, and he was carrying a mug of steaming black coffee. "I didn't want to wake you," he said as he handed them over; Robert accepted the coffee first. "After last night, I figured you'd want to put off the morning as long as possible."

"Huh?" Robert took a long gulp, and only then realized how dehydrated he was. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, after all that drinking," said Robert with a sympathetic wince. "Hungover? I know I am."

"I…guess." Robert didn't remember drinking all that much, but as he sipped his coffee he had to admit that his head was pounding like many a hangover. He shook himself and started to get dressed. "Honestly, I don't…. Are you okay?" If nothing else he remembered Joseph's broad hands under his shirt, shame explaining away any other dread that was trying to thread itself behind his ribs. What an ass he was. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…."

"No, I'm sorry," said Joseph seriously. "I truly am, Robert—I put you in a terrible position."

Robert buttoned his shirt—it was still warm from the dryer, and he frowned, but then put it out of his mind. "No, I'm sure that I…." He took a deep breath and tried to face Joseph sincerely, as he deserved. "Shit. What happens now?"

Joseph's smile was grim. "I don't know, but for now…." He ran his hand back through his hair, and seeing him suddenly so vulnerable made Robert feel ten times worse. "For now can you please just not tell Mary?"

Robert's stomach twisted. "You're not going to tell her?"

"I will," Joseph assured quickly. "I will, I just…need her to hear it from me. At the right time." The tilt of his eyebrows was pleading. "Please, Robert."

"…Yeah. Okay. I promise."

Robert drained the rest of the coffee, and then Joseph led them above deck. The gleam of soft yellow light on the ocean made Robert's skin crawl and he wasn't sure why. "I guess _now_ I disembark," he said, at a loss. He felt like shit in more ways than one, more so when the same shame he felt crept through the cracks in Joseph's usually implacable calm.

"Yeah. Again, I'm…." Joseph sighed, shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I also want to thank you. I feel like if nothing else, last night I was…honest. Much more honest than I've been in a long time, and…that means a lot to me, Robert. So thank you."

He offered his hand, and, baffled and sentimental, Robert shook it. "If you need to talk about it…I'm probably a bad pick," Robert said, hoping for light-hearted. "But I'm still here."

"Thanks. I'll seen you around." Joseph smiled. "Soon."

He let go, but as Robert turned to leave his hand strayed too far from his side, brushing a fleeting touch to Robert's stomach. It flicked in Robert a spark, warm and yearning and full of anticipation. Robert gulped and didn't know what to make of it. But by then Joseph's back was turned, and there was nothing more to say. Mystified but somehow satisfied, Robert showed himself off the yacht. He was so eager to be home, but once there he couldn't stop thinking about Joseph. That was when he noticed the brand.

"What the...?" Robert rubbed his thumb over a strange, sun-like shape tattooed on the back of his palm. It was tender to the touch and it made something in his squirm. He sank into the couch, tracing the mark over and over, taking a kind of morbid enjoyment from the sting. "Just how drunk _was_ I last night?" he muttered as he stretched out. 

_Soon_ , Joseph had said. Robert closed his eyes and tried to put it out of his mind, but he couldn't stop the word from tumbling about inside him. Whatever he meant, soon couldn't come soon enough.


End file.
